The Commander - Part 9 (Arkham Knight x Reader)

I just want to thank you all for the kind comments and messages. I was afraid of disappointing you with the next chapters. So please let me know what you all think! It lets me know if I’m on the right track!

WORDS: 3272 WARNINGS: UHMMMM YOU FIGHT WITH JASON AND THEN THERE’S A WHOLE MIX OF ANGSTY FLUFF AND FLUFFY ANGST 

Masterlist

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

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“So what do they call you? Peashooter?”

This kid was a fucking menace. And the red and yellow on his suit just made him even more irritating to look at. The bullets just bounced off of him. Either that, or she’ll have to face her uncle for missing so many shots at once. She gripped onto the two pistols with her life.

Aim for the head.

She saw his cape rolling into a pile of boxes and fired.

“Silver Sniper! The Mini Gunner! Come on, I can think of loads of names right now!”

The boxes had become an exploded mess by then. Robin wasn’t there. She backed off, panting. Y/N had to get out of this. She focused on the sounds, or any movement from the ground’s vibrations, but there was nothing. Which meant-

“Fuck!” Robin jumped from the ledge above and tackled her to the ground. Y/N kneed his groin, then landed a punch on his face. She pushed him off of her and ducked just as he pounced for her head.

He blocked her kicks with his arms, then grabbed her right fist, then her left, just as she threw them, but she high kicked his hold and pushed him back. She kept throwing her punches, and he easily blocked them without blinking.

Y/N growled, but Robin just smirked at her. He threw a punch at her stomach, but didn’t see her foot aiming just at his chest.

He threw back, and it was enough time for her to pick up her pistols and aim at his head.

But just as she pulled the trigger, two batarangs landed right at the muzzels. The firearms exploded in her hands and her body was thrown to the floor. Robin laughed. “You were looking an awful lot like Lara Croft there, kid.”

“You think this is intimidating me, bird boy?”

“Without your precious guns, maybe it is.”

Xxxx

Jason ran right up to her, withstanding all the bullets she could fire with his armor thick enough to go against missiles, and pushed her to the ground, picking up her guns and throwing them over the roof. The Commander kicked him in the stomach and rolled off.

“No guns.”

His voice filter just sounded annoying at this point. Y/N picked herself up and ran to him, throwing a punch aiming for his neck. He saw her alternating strikes and dodged every one of them, blocking her knee with his own wrist. She landed a kick, but he grabbed her ankle and flung her off to the ledge, her back hitting the cement.

“Stop throwing me around, asshole!” she coughed.

This man was one she wanted dead at some point and was so tempted to help kill him, she was almost at the front gates of Arkham just to do so. At the last minute, she decided against it.

She might be a killer, but she was no monster.

Then she ended up sleeping with that same man, several times, even going so far as sharing a kiss at a time and place that a kiss meant the most.

And here he was again, Jason, finishing a war that started years ago.

Jason skidded to her front, his shoes making her lose balance. They rolled around the floor, with either on top and throwing their fists only to meet the ground. Y/N was first to roll off and regain her stance, but Jason managed to duck before she hit his head.

She had to tire him out. His hits were strong. Too strong in fact. More of those and his arms would eventually weaken. It was her turn to block his fists, her torso turning around while also keeping an eye on his lower body.

Her punches were swift, fast, and almost as light as air. They weren’t enough on their own, but if she gained her momentum it would be enough to throw her opponent off. She knew Jason had that in mind, especially since he was the exact opposite. He was slower, but each hit was strong enough to land her on the ground.

It had always been hard to best him. In fact, she never could say she’d beaten him in a fight. But this will be the first.

As a fight long awaited, it was too bad no one else saw them. They were dancing. A violent, bone-crushing dance.

And it was epic.

Her legs were flying in the air as Y/N twisted his arm and placed her whole weight right on his shoulder. She pulled at his wrist, gaining a cry from him.

“Get off me!”

“You asked for this, you son of a-“

And a massive blow of his strength pushed her off. She was panting, and she let her guard down for a split second and he had her against the wall, grabbing her by the collar.

“This making you hard, Knight?” she whispered.

Jason should’ve seen her knee between his legs. He let go of her, and she tackled him to the ground. She tried hitting his visor, but her already bruised fist gave out and Jason flipped them over.

He held her down with his muscled arm hard against her neck. Y/N struggled and she could only look up to his visor. The glass had broken and his grunts were no longer filtered. She could see his face, teeth gritting, and his eyes looking straight back at her. She used the last of her strength to push him off.

It had to be hours. The Commander was panting, and all her limbs felt like falling to the ground. “Stop!” Jason said, struggling to pull himself up the floor. He had to catch his breath as well, opening his visor to let the cold air in. She leaned her arm against the cement.

The sky had lightened. And the stars had disappeared. She was breathing so hard the air just seemed too thin. Jason laid flat on the ground, staring blankly above. Y/N pressed her back against the ledge and her body melted to the ground.

The worthiest opponent. And still, no one bested the other. She waited until the air wasn’t such a blur and the floor no longer spinning, and he on the ground. They sat there for as long as they’d fought until the sun had fully risen.

He hadn’t said a word, but she could see his chest rising and falling, eventually into a steadier pace. When she thought she could, she stood up, slowly walking up to Jason.

She caught his eye, and extended her hand. He looked at her up and down, but for once, he actually took it. She pulled him up.

“This conversation never happened.”

Jason pulled his hand away. “Just the conversation or everything that happened after it?”

“Need I remind you the militia leaves for Gotham in three days. This was stupid. We don’t have time for this.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

She brushed off her suit, lasting a glare at him before turning for the hatch on the floor. She pulled it open.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said.

She didn’t even look back at him. “Fuck off.”

Xxxxx

Her head was burning. She needed ice, right at the center of her cheek. She tried not to look at Jason or else she’d attack him from across the table again. He had a new visor on, as if he kept spare ones in his drawers. If she had broken bones somewhere they’ll have to be ignored.

“I told Stagg the Cloudburst arrives in Gotham today. He’s responsible for hiding it in his bunkers until I give the signal.”

Deathstroke filled in. “How do we filter out the effects from our men?”

“Their masks give them immunity,” said the Knight.

“And does everyone have this mask? I told you we had new recruits.”

“Everyone is accounted for,” Crane said. “Our men will be fine.”

“Have you even tested the toxin recently?”

Scarecrow stood from his chair. “The Cloudburst will do much more than just release the toxin. I’ve asked Stagg to amplify its poison gas into the density of rainclouds. The city will be a barren wasteland. And if the Dark Knight fails, all of Gotham will fall.”

Jason seemed satisfied. “I’ll make sure to alert our men before I release the toxin.”

“I thought the Commander drives the Cloudburst,” said Slade.

“If it has anything to do with facing Batman head on, I’ll do it. The Commander’s tasked mainly at HQ.”

“Actually,” Crane said. “Commander Y/N has the expertise to control the tank, don’t you Commander?”

The Commander sat back against the chair. “I do.”

“She’s the best man for the job, Knight.”

“I said, I’ll do it. We had a deal. I get to kill Batman!”

Scarecrow wasn’t bothered. “And is it with the Cloudburst that you end his life with? The Cloudburst isn’t used as our primary weapon, Knight. It is used for the toxin.”

“It’s the best weapon we’ve got.”

“Then perhaps that means our drones are far from enough.”

Slade stammered, “Those drones are mine and they work perfectly.”

“I don’t care if I have a knife or a tank,” Jason said. “He looks into my eyes while he dies.”

“Your delay in Gotham tells me your history with the Dark Knight will work to your disadvantage.”

Fuck.

“We had to hack into GCPD,” The Commander finally said. She’d join in on the argument, but her jaw hurt too much. Then she took out the hacking device from her jacket and slid it across the table to Slade.

“The Commander has her own work. I will not just sit in a chair and watch everything happen from a camera.”

“We all know you won’t be doing that, kid,” Deathstroke interrupted. “I say we send the Commander.”

“Her best position is to watch and control all comms and drones at HQ. She will lead the whole army. I gave her that job weeks ago, Wilson.”

“Enough,” the Commander said. “I’ll take the Cloudburst. The Knight can take a serpent drone and attack the Alpha Target once the tank destroys his car. He kills him right then.”

Slade slams his palms against the table. “How bout that?”

“A serpent drone?”

“I fire at his car, you make sure your visor filters out the gas and you take him out from above.”

Jason seemed skeptical, but Deathstroke had already stood up from his chair. “Have at it, Commander.”

Jason wasn’t having it. He went after Slade after he’d left the room. The commander winced at the pain in her lower body, struggling to even stand up. She started for the door, and Crane blocked her out.

“Commander,” he whispered. Y/N pretended not to look at him.

“What?”

“I know what went on with you and the Knight.”

The Commander kept looking at the ground. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“I have eyes in Gotham. You cannot talk your way out of this.”

“Whatever it is you think, that isn’t the case. Nothing happened between us.”

Crane neared his face dangerously close to Y/N. And suddenly, she had a whiff of his toxin. It was in his breath. In a daze, she looked straight into his eyes and saw demons crawl out of them. Her breath was shortened and she stiffed.

“I don’t care about either of you,” he said. “But if this affects the deployment of my toxin in any way, I’ll make sure he suffers your own consequences.”

“Get out of my face, Crane.”

“I know your fear. I know everybody’s fear. The Knight is deadly, but the man’s as fragile as broken glass. And as stubborn as a mangy dog. You would know that.”

He was making her see it. And hear things she wasn’t supposed to hear. There were screams. Not hers, but of Jason’s. And she could see his face crying out in agony. But she couldn’t look away from the blackness that was Crane’s eyes.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Yes, in fact, you do,” Crane breathed and backed away.

There were still remnants of the toxin when he headed out the door.

“You have two days, Commander. Make it count.”

Xxxx

It was death.

That was what stared at her in the face.

It wasn’t just Jason, or Crane. It was death.

It was cold, and the streets were barren and full of shit. They were far away from the city, but the countryside had a small town just a mile away. She didn’t have to take her bike. Y/N walked even when the sidewalks were small enough for her to be run over at just a slight turn of a wheel.

But she didn’t care, not even when she felt it rain so slightly, the droplets disappeared as it made contact with her clothes. Y/N pulled up her hood and continued down the road.

There weren’t much people, even at this hour. She wasn’t even afraid anyone would pull her to the alleys and leave her defenseless. Her focus was on the ground, moving downward until she met the curb.

The light glowed red, even with no cars passing by. She stood there, waiting. And in front of her was a small diner.

It was the classic retro feel. There was a jukebox at the corner, red seats backed up against the window while a waitress in blue took the orders of the two people inside. A mother and her son. He seemed happy with the single slice of pie on his plate.

She looked away before she’s thought about it even more.

But even then, it was too late. It hurt before it even dawned to her.

In another world, where she wasn’t taken in by her uncle, she’d have gone into a diner just like the one in front of her, ordered a burger and a chocolate milkshake knowing the rain would fall in and it would take her too long to get home for dinner. Then she’ll take a seat at the counter.

In that world, she’d have met a boy looking at her from a few seats away, smiling. And she’d smile back when her order appears and they realized they got the exact same mix of the smoothie they wanted. The boy would take the seat beside her, ask for her name. And he’d tell her his. That boy would have the brightest blue eyes and she could already tell he had the habit of scratching his nose.

And they’ll talk all night even after everyone else in the diner had left, when the cook had to drive them out. He would offer to take her home, and she’d decline at first, but eventually give in. She wanted to give in. And by the end of the day, he’d have her number and they’ll see each other that weekend again. In that same diner.

In that world, she wasn’t a world-renowned assassin, and Jason wasn’t a vigilante with a broken past.

But-

But-

Fuck. She was so in love with him, it was terrifying.

But they had no business being kids, being cute, being so harmlessly in love and go on walks and even dates.

They had no business lying on the floor, eating burgers at three in the afternoon.

They had no business being so uncomplicated, when everything comes so easily and nothing would be at stake.

They had no business having a relationship. No matter how much she’d have wanted that. Not after their history. Not after what they’ve both been through. Not after what Floyd had raised her into and partially stripped her of anything normal.

Jason. Tortured. Being mauled on the floor while a madman beats him like a lifeless sack of hay.

Then someone stood beside her. She didn’t have to look at him.

“Stop following me.”

Jason didn’t answer. He looked on at the diner and he had the same look on his eyes as she had.

“You look at the diner, too.”

“Go. Away.”

He didn’t leave. Instead, they stood at the side of the street, not moving even when the light in front of them turned green.

She didn’t say anything more. Didn’t even look at him.

“I wish… I did something,” she swallowed. “I wish I wanted to save you.”

“Stop. I didn’t mean what I said. Forget about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I said stop.”

The woman in the diner held up a spoonful of pie and her son opened his mouth wide. It looked delicious even from the distance. The traffic light turned red and just one car drove off in front of them.

“Jason-“

“I saw the look on your face. Back at the cave. I knew you’d have figured everything out by then, about what happened to me at Arkham.”

She was stone cold and stiff.

“But none of that mattered. I didn’t care if you wanted me dead at one point. The whole day I was with you in Gotham, it was the first day I hadn’t thought about Joker… or Batman. Anything.

“I walked out of the cave hoping you wouldn’t run away after knowing who I was. So I kissed you. And you kissed me back. Then I let you hold me and I told you my name. Then… Jesus…”

Y/N still hadn’t turned away. She wasn’t crying. She couldn’t. It was the droplets from the rain that ran down her cheeks. Nothing else.

And by that time the traffic light had turned back to being green, the diner was dark and empty. She didn’t want to look to her side. Somehow, she knew Jason would just walk away, without so much as another word. He’d do something like that, and it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.

But he stayed.

For a long while, he did. So she asked, without much to expect.

“Can you walk me home?”

Just that. She could at least have that. Something so miniscule from the world she longed to be.

“Okay.”

He stayed right beside her. All the way back to the barracks. And the dark rain prevailed.

And it was the same when they reached the empty training grounds, deep into the back where the living quarters were. The walk to their rooms was silent, and their clothes drenched the floors all the way up to hers. Jason walked straight into his, without so much as another word.

She went into her room and locked the door, but her hand didn’t leave the doorknob. She stood there, silent and alone. Y/N never felt so lost.

But it had to have been long minutes, because she heard four knocks on her door before she’s even walked away. She opened it and Jason was standing there, his hair a wet mess, and he held up a coffee mug.

“Hot water,” he said. “Drink it before bed.”

Y/N didn’t have much energy left to decline. She took it from him. “Thank you.”

Jason stepped back, and she closed the door again.

Her whole body leaned against the hard wood of the door and she could feel a part of herself drip to the floor at each second she’d have to look into his hurt eyes. She’d fallen in so deep, and she hated herself for it.

She opened the door, determined to go after him.

But he was still there, at the door, just about to go into her room himself.

Y/N’s never felt so at the edge of breaking down when she met his eyes, panting. And with the pain, came the rush of cold air, the rush of cold relief. Jason went into her room, pushed her against the door to close it. He could feel her breath, wanting him.

He held the back of her drenched head and pulled her to his lips. She dug in to his hair, gripping it hard when his lips escaped hers and found their way back to her neck. Her other hand traveled down his clothed arms. She gasped, and Jason slowly guided them both to move to the bed. He’ll never pull away. Soon there were no more boundaries between them, no distance. They lasted all night, no longer with any trace of regret.

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THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

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SMUT FANS. YA’LL KNOW IT’S ABOUT TO GET DOWN IN THE NEXT CHAPTER

  Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo

Demon Claws and Crossbow Bolts -- [chapter one]

chapter one is here ! hope you enjoy this little project of mine. i’ve fancast most of the young justice team as live action actors and actresses. this takes place in an alternate story after the end of young justice : season two. 

yes, i know bex is in the cw arrow series. yes I know she plays an established character. Yes, I know colton haynes also plays roy in that series. yes, I know this, and this doesn’t take place in that universe. 

warnings : swearing , violence , injuries , dark topics

rating : 16+

Central city had been a disaster as far as she was concerned, but being honest, most things that happened with her could be considered as such. She kept a low profile as best she could. Riley walked through the streets of Gotham now, she’d been city hopping since her fight with the Inventor by hacking her way into the Justice Leagues Zeta Tubes. Sure, she wasn’t the best with tech, but having Fenris whisper in the back of her head about how to bypass the whitelist had its pros. It didn’t help however, that he was now complaining about being hungry. It was early evening, the darkening sky stating as much, and Riley hadn’t eaten since the day before, something she regretted at the moment, but it wasn’t like she could just walk into a diner and order whatever she wanted. Her stomach complained but her empty wallet just laughed at her mockingly.

The Barbarian suit - more of just a red army vest - was hidden under her jacket, the holster vest was in the bag slung over her shoulder, along with a few various necessities and the set of dull golden coloured brass knuckles that acted as her main weapon. The bag wasn’t heavy for her, though she had seen others have trouble with it, it was simply awkward to carry for such a long period of time. 

“food. now.” the growling voice had grown in anger inside her mind for the past few hours. 

“You’ll get food when I can find somewhere to eat for free” Riley grumbled to herself. A nearby lump on the ground, now revealing itself as a person sleeping on the side of the street, moved, the man looking up at her in confusion. He had bags under his eyes and a wild puff of black-grey hair that looked like it hadn’t been brushed in weeks. Which might of just been true.

“Steal. then Food” Fenris growled again. Riley tore her gaze away from the homeless man and continued her walk. 

“we can’t steal here, we’ll have the Bats on our ass if we do”. Riley didn’t hate the Batman and his little followers, but she would have rathered not to run into them while she was in Gotham, already on the run as was. Fenris seemed to go quiet for a moment after this, perhaps questioning whether he really wanted to deal with any more enemies after Central City.

“alright. Wait then.” The demon sounded reluctant, but it wasn’t like he had a choice in the moment. The Gotham streets were almost completely empty, which was good, Riley didn’t need people with a direct line to the news station to see her muttering to her hidden companion. She would be on the news within hours being branded as one of Gothams new crazies. “not happy” Fenris continued, and her stomach complained again. 

“I get it Fen, you’ll live, just give me a heads up if you start to feel murderous.”

Riley was in downtown Gotham now, more isolated, but certainly not quiet. Someone ahead of her, down the street and around the corner, was talking, loudly and in a mocking tone to someone else. The secondary party was silent, seeming to take the verbal abuse without any qualms. Curious, Riley walked closer to the corner, steadying her breath and peaking around the edge of the concrete. Riley didn’t recognise the villain, but as she looked at the second party, she certainly remembered seeing those colours before. It was a minute or so before Robin got tired of the villain talking, and moved in to fight. A quick silver staff hit with a crack against the villains knee, sending him down to the ground, then another hard tap on the mans head and he stopped moving, though the rhythmic movement of his chest betrayed that he was still breathing, simply not unconscious. 

Robin spun the metal bo staff around again, securing it on his back, bending down and nudging the villain with his hand. When there was no reaction, he deemed it safe and raised his hand to his ear, talking to someone unseen from Riley's eyes.

“Bats, I found Kite-Man trying to cause some trouble downtown, should I drop him off at Blackgate?” There was silence, but Riley assumed that someone was talking through a comm link. The woman moved slowly, walking from shadow to shadow to stay out of sight of the costumed hero. Fenris growled in the back of her mind to attack, but Riley didn’t exactly want trouble with boy wonder. He continued to talk, and Riley moved from the edge of the building, back into the almost empty Gotham streets.

Three minutes past of walking, her destination was the next known Zeta tube, down by the border line between Gotham and Bludhaven. She was heading to Starling City next, hopefully permanently. Riley turned another corner when she heard it. The faint scraping of metal on metal. A creak, a groan and some clicks. All faint, as if the source was keeping itself hidden on purpose. She turned her head.

She couldn’t see anything for a moment, the shadows obscuring anything from view. Within seconds however, something large and metallic lurched out of the night. It was humanoid, giving homage to some old steampunk movie with pipes and steam and glowing clock like eyes.

“Oh for FUCKS SAKE” Riley yelled, turning and taking off down the road. Turning into an alleyway, she raised her hands, leaping and grabbing the base of a fire escape, hauling herself onto the landing and crawling up the stairs with haste. She was on the roof in a few moments, racing across the concrete landings. Riley reached her hand awkwardly into the bag on her back, shuffling through different things until she found the cold metal she was looking for. The woman pulled out the set of dull brass knuckles and secured them around her fists. 

As she passed another fire-escape, something grabbed at her from the edge, one of the machines trying to grasp at the bag on her back. It succeeded, snatching the fabric and tossing Riley back against the lip of the building with a thud. The breath knocked out of her, Riley pushed herself to her feet quickly, eyeing the creature crawl its way towards her. 

She let it strike first, slashing out with sharp metal fingers, Riley ducked to the left, loosing her arm in a quick jab, catching it across the jaw and sending it reeling to the side, a quick cross with the other hand and the machine tumbled back to the ground with a sharp and echoing clang. When it did, Riley looked up to see two more shuffling their way across the rooftops. 

“Come on man” she sighed, stepping back and dipping her hand into her pocket, and pressing her thumb on the ink pad located there. A quick wipe across her face, along her eyeline and she deemed that it was sufficient enough encase she ran into some unwanted attention. Not that this wasn’t unwanted. Barbarian raised her fists, Fenris growling in her head for blood - not that he was getting any from this fight - and she swung a punch at one of the approaching machines.

It was good fun, until the enemies she had put down, ripped apart, started to reassemble. Conglomerations of metal, welding themselves together like some sort of messed up surgeon. Barbarian stepped back, watching an awed horror as a metal husk grabbed a discarded arm from the ground, dented and bent the wrong way, and smashed it into it's empty shoulder socket. The arm wasn't even originally from that mech and was a much darker shade of silver, but she doubted it cared about appearances. Another of the metal monstrosities dragged itself along the ground, a leg bent the wrong way, causing the grinding metal-concrete sound to grow louder as it limped forwards, arms outstretched and a blank look on its metallic face.

It almost made it more unnerving, these things moved towards her with no sound apart from the scraping of metal and clicking of gears. Their footfall made no sound, and they made no effort to vocalise their mission. Just clicks, squeaks and scrapes. The city even seemed quiet, which was always a worry.

Barbarian had already taken a good beating from these things. Fresh bruises littered her skin like freckles, sliced scars were here and there. A well placed punch had left the young woman with a bloody nose and cracked lip. Her head hurt, most likely from being shoved into a wall a few minutes before, and she could hear the faint growls of Fenris in the back of her mind. She didn't look good was the point, Barbarian was sure she wasn't going to win any beauty awards in this state.

"I know I said zombie movies were cool, didn't mean I wanted to live in one!" making the connection between the robots undead-esque movements, and the films she watched as a early teen, Barbarian turned on her heel and started running towards and open gap between buildings. She was in Blüdhaven, as far as she could remember, having crossed the border a few minutes earlier. Ever since the fight in Central City she was moving, it became hard to keep track after a while. These things followed her, even able to recognise her in her civvies, which was never good. She barely turned up on the radar of high class villains, but if someone knew her identity, anyone would want it. Barbarian continued running, vaulting over an exposed air vent and sending a glance back at the crowd. It was moving faster now, chasing her. Where was Nightwing when you needed him? Not that she needed help, but it would be nice to take step back and watch someone else work. Wasn't this his city? Pick up the slack bird brain, there's killer robots in your city!

A rush of wind past her head made Barbarian stop and look at the crumbled concrete ground. One of the mechs heads was dented and laying at her feet. With a confused and accusatory look, the black haired vigilante addressed the moving crowd, her left hand seized, the muscles clenched and complained, leaving her with cramping pain up her arm as her arm morphed to a deep black, sharpening at the end of each finger.

"ok! which one of you fuckers threw that?"

The response was a barrage of thrown metal limbs and body parts. There were six of the creatures now, each with their own collection of injuries and damages, and each finding a part of their kin to throw in her direction. Barbarian dodged a thrown arm, only to get hit across the top of the head with a metal hand. The blow sent her to the ground, couching and blinking, confused. The world started to spin and she realised to late that she was being dragged. Her movements sluggish now, she tried to fight against the creature pulling her to no avail. It took a split second to figure out what was happening. Her blood soaked hands tried and failed to grasp at the lip of the building before she was falling.

Fuck, the ground hurt. Especially when she had hit the metal fire escape on the way down. If Fenris hadn’t been inhabiting her body, she most likely would have died from the fall. 

Groaning as she lay in the bottom of the alleyway, Barbarian, tried to move her arms to support herself, only to cry out in pain from the stabbing feeling in her chest. 

“One broken rib, two cracked”

“Thank you Fenris, that’s so fucking helpful” Barbarian winced, clutching her chest carefully and leaning against the wall as she slowly rose to her feet. Lazily rolling her gaze over where she had landed, she found herself just where she wanted to be, the Zeta tube located just beyond the false wall. It was slow, moving along the wall so she had some support, Riley reached the door, easing it open and slamming it shut behind her. 

The crashing of metal against the door was ignored partially as she drapped herself over the control panel to give her legs a break. 

“god, I need to get a new job” 

“being beat up , not a job” Fenris added helpfully, making Riley scrunch up her nose and let out a long breath. She leaned up, imputing her destination of Starling City into the panel. 

“Just need to get out of here. get to the next city. no issue” each statement showed her growing delirious nature, her words became continually breathier, and more slurred as she stumbled towards the zeta platform, now lit up. 

Her last memory was landing on the platform, and a white light that passed her to her next destination. Remembering nothing afterwards.

**

hope you enjoyed I suppose? I needed something to upload today, so I split up chapter one of DCACB to make this and make the chapters a little shorter. 

cameos of characters and people are open! If you want to be seen in an episode, shoot me an ask.

requests are open! tag list : @silverdecepticon93​ @izzieg3987​  @starr60​ 

bruce + melting

For the gore prompt:

Every movement is agony. Evenbreathing sends pain shooting through him, all centred around the spot wherethe suit has melted into his skin.

Bruce can already hear thesounds of rapidly approaching police sirens, so he grapples up to the roof,leaving Firefly where she is, knocked out and secured to a pipe. Hestumbles as he lands, bites his tongue to hold back the scream as he grapplesto the next roof. And the next. His mouth is full of blood by the time he’sdropping down next to the car. His legs are shaking, chills starting to wrackhis body and he clutches at the roof, breathing harshly though it.

Opening the car door andcollapsing into the seat, Bruce fumbles at his belt for one of the pain killershe keeps stored there and depresses it quickly into the crease in the armour athis hip. He gives it a few minutes to kick in. It’s not particularly strong,and definitely not strong enough to affect his ability to drive, but it shouldbe enough to take the edge off so he can get home without passing out.

His fingers blindly find thecatch to the cowl and he pulls it off, head thumping back against the seat. Allhe can do is sit there, breathing, waiting for the pain to dull even thetiniest bit. His gloves creak where they grip the edge of the seat. He sitsthere for a minute, two minutes, three, before the fire licking along the sideof his body softens to something more like a simmer. As soon as it does Brucestarts the car and takes off. Hands all but throttling the steering wheel, hedecides to take the longer route home. It adds an extra ten minutes to the trip,but it involves taking roads that are, for the most part, empty this time ofnight.

He’ll have to talk to Luciusand see if there’s any way they can install some kind of autopilot or remotedriving control for the car. Right after he brings up the issue of fireproofingthe suit. Not that is already isn’t fireproof, but it’s clearly not enough tostand up to Firefly’s latest toy.

Bruce, with Lucius’ help, has been adjusting and upgrading thesuit constantly since he started…this. It’s been a challenge, finding asomething that will take the kinds of damage Gotham can dish out, but that willalso let Bruce move. It’s been a hell of a learning curve, and ifnothing else, tonight has taught Bruce he might need to move ‘flame retardant’higher up the priority list. Or maybe that should be just a general resistanceto extreme temperatures, given Victor Fries’ existence.

 That, or he just needs to be faster.

 “Right, Sir.” His ear-piece crackles back to life. “I don’tsuppose you’re ready to tell me what happened? Comm silence in the middle of afight is one thing, but you know how I feel about you going quiet. Makes menervous.”

“I’m on my way back, A. Prepthe medbay.”

“Have you managed to getyourself shot again? Stabbed this time, perhaps?” Alfred’s words are blasé,even teasing, but Bruce can hear the worrying in his voice.

“Ran into Firefly.” Aparticularly large pothole jolts the car, and Bruce can’t hold back hisresulting grunt. He can hear Alfred’s pause.

“As you say, Sir. I’ll be righthere. Do try to be quick about it.”

Stepping on the gas that littlebit more, Bruce tries to keep breathing steadily through his mouth, if only toavoid the smell that’s quickly filling the enclosed space of the car. If thesmell of burnt flesh is one of Bruce’s least favourite smells, adding what isessentially burnt plastic to the mix just makes it worse. It fills his nose,and each breath is a struggle, not just because it pulls at his side, the partswhere the suit has fused completely to his skin, like a second layer. Even onthe edges where it hasn’t, the skin feels burnt, raw. He tries not to thinkabout it as his own skin. Tries to distance himself from the smell, the pain,imagines instead that some goon had gotten in a lucky kick and Bruce is lookingat a week with bruised ribs. Bad, but not as bad.

It doesn’t really work. Evenwith the pain killer it hurts too much for that, and there’s a slowly creepinghorror that Bruce is having trouble keeping at bay. 

Alfred’s waiting for him whenhe pulls into the cave, throwing Bruce’s arm over his shoulder and halfcarrying him over to the table the second he’s out of the car. He leans himagainst it, and immediately starts working on removing what parts of the suithe can. Bruce detaches the cape, which flutters to the floor, but beyond thathe’s not much help. Concentrates instead on standing upright.

Alfred gets his boots, glovesand gauntlets off quickly enough, then urges him up onto the table, pushing himgently to lay down flat and slipping something under his legs to keep themelevated. He distantly recognises the position for preventing shock.

Bruce can’t bring himself tolook at his injury, but Alfred’s muffled swear says enough. He hears the snapof gloves, and then feels fingers gently probing over the suit, careful at theburnt and melted edges. Even that light pressure hurts, any kind of movementpulling at where the suit’s attached to the skin, but Bruce holds back any kindof reaction, knowing how much Alfred hates to see him in pain.

“I’ll have to cut you out ofthe rest, and then slough off the bits that have…” Bruce turns his head and watchesAlfred swallow. He nods his understanding when it looks like Alfred isn’t goingto finish the thought.

He risks a look down as Alfredmoves away to collect supplies. He actually can’t see much. The suit all alonghis side is blackened and warped, bubbled in some spots, but almost cratered,dipping down over his skin like a second layer. It looks bad, but not as bad asit feels.

After all, it’s what’sunderneath that’s the problem.

Alfred eventually comes back,and Bruce turns his head to face the ceiling, barely feeling the needle as itslides into his neck, Alfred injecting him with a combination pain killer andsedative. The suit’s already a lost cause, and Bruce goes over new schematicsand designs in his head as Alfred removes it piece by piece. It’s a distractionfrom the way his skin is pulled with every movement. Alfred’s trying to becareful, going slow, Bruce knows this, but the whole suit is effectively anchoredto his body, and even the smallest tug feels like a knife digging in.

Bruce’s eyes are drooping bythe time the suit is gone, and the cool, damp towels Alfred drapes over his torsofeel good. His chills have subsided for now, and so the towels are soothingmore than anything. As he lays there, listening to Alfred move around, the snapof him changing his gloves, Bruce can feel the deep heat of the burns give wayjust a little. He’s not sure how long Alfred leaves them on, but he eventuallyreturns and removes them, leaving them neatly on the rolling table by the bed. Oncehe has, Bruce risks another glance down.

Alfred gentles him as he gags, turningaway immediately. The majority of his stomach, his chest, even down over hiship and the tops of his thighs are bright red, almost like a bad sunburn, and theskin beneath and around the very edges of the remaining bits of suit isblistered and shiny. Second-degree burns, almost certainly. Beyond that, thesuit has completely melted, fused, stuck to the skin beneath it.

“This is going to hurt I’mafraid, Master B. I’ll go slow though.”

Alfred’s right. Even throughthe haze of the pain killers and the sedative, it hurts. Dear god does it hurt.Bruce has been shot, stabbed, beaten, and poisoned before. He’s had brokenbones, he’s been trapped out in the elements, pushed himself to the very limitsof what his body can handle. He’s even been burned before, but none of that hadever felt like this. Nothing Bruce has felt before comes close to the way itfeels to have Alfred wipe away melted Kevlar and take layers of his skin withit.

He does go slow. Uses a freshtowel to wipe away each layer, bit by bit, and Bruce holds himself stillthroughout it. Uses every bit of strength he has to keep from moving, from hurtinghimself more. He can feel everything. Can feel the pull of the suit as Alfredgently prods at the edges, easing it free. He can feel the way it tugs on theskin before finally coming loose, inch by inch, and the sharp, gnawing painwhen it takes the top layers of skin with it.

Bruce bites his lips and histongue bloody, holding back his screams, refusing to do that to himself, or Alfred,because every movement hurts, and he knows this is hard enough for Alfred as itis. He’s not going to make it worse. Bruce knows this has to be done, the burnsare too bad to be left untreated for the time it would take for the melted partof the suit to fall off on its own. It’s too large, would take too long, andleaving it untreated could easily turn life-threatening, beyond what Alfred is capableof treating on his own in the cave. It still hurts.

Bruce isn’t sure how long helays there, holding himself coiled and stiff as Alfred works, but eventuallythe sedative finally takes over, and he slips into unconsciousness beforeAlfred is done.

Operation: Miracle Prawn (A Meihem Fanfiction)

“Mei? Did you hear me?” There wasn’t much to stare at, so Mei stared at the one thing that was there; a single clock on the wall, watching with a blank gaze at the black numbers on the stark white circle. The thin red line of the second-counter slowly ticked away, moving steadily with its little mechanized jerky movement, clicking one spot over in timely precision. It was odd, still having an analog clock in this day and age. Perhaps Dr. Ziegler was comforted by its irritating ticking, somehow? That ceaseless, echoing ticking, where she could hear the turning and clacking of every gear in the machine’s guts, somewhere behind that clean white and black face. She stared at the clock and she listened to it tick, and watched the red hand go the entire way around, from 12 to 12 again. Dr. Ziegler tried again after a minute had gone by, biting her lip a little as the smaller woman stared blankly at the clock on the wall above, seemingly uncomprehending. “Mei? Mei-Ling, I know this is a lot to take in…” Mei shuddered a little on the examination table. She was used to the cold, more than anyone, but the thin little paper medical gowns offered no protection from the deathly chill of the clinic. She wished she had her thermal gear and her furs, like when she was trapped in the wastelands of Antarctica. True, she had lost almost ten years of her life, been the sole survivor of her entire expedition, and had traipsed across miles of unforgiving ice with no food and few supplies; but as she shivered beneath her little paper dress, she wondered if Antarctica had actually been warmer. Dr. Ziegler was talking again, over the ticking of the clock. “Ah, I see. If you need another minute, I can step out-” Mei felt herself lifting a hand to try and signal her to stay, trying to fight her way back to the present. The open folder with the little scattering of papers was still open on her lap, though all the letters jumbled together. Licking her lips, she tried to speak, a little wheezing noise hissing out before she managed to wrangle any words. “No! No, I’m…I’m sorry. Sorry, Dr. Ziegler. I d-don’t know what came over me. It…I just..” A gentle, calming hand (though covered in rubber and colder than ice) was laid upon her shoulder. “Just take a moment, breathe.” She tried to breathe, and the cold air burned her lungs. “Nn..” “It’s all right. I must admit I was….surprised, myself. And I assure you, I double checked, and then triple checked. That’s why I called you in for the tests today, just to be completely sure. I didn’t want to say anything until I was certain but…Well, now I am certain. Your results just came back and…They are positive, Mei.” She shook her head, because the results couldn’t be positive. The doctor had just made a mistake, that was all. “B-but…but I’m not…” “They all came back positive. You’re about four weeks pregnant.”

“…No, I’m not…” “Well you were about three weeks when you first came in for your regular check-up, but the hormone levels threw me off and I wanted to run some more tests. I even thought the machine might have been broken. But no, all results positive.” Dr. Ziegler kept talking, even if she shouldn’t have been. Because she was wrong. “I know that…it’s a lot to take in. When you’re ready, we’ll start to go over the procedures and new medical schedule you’ll be on. I do apologize for the frequency, but I’ll need to keep a very close eye on things. The odds are-” “I’m not pregnant,” Mei said again, looking up a little more desperately. “I can’t be. You said so, yourself. You said so.” “I…believe the odds I gave you were a little less than one percent…And it seems that one of your tries has hit the mark in that less than one percent range.” “Tries? But we weren’t…No, we weren’t trying?” Mei held her forehead, still trying to process everything. They hadn’t been trying for a baby at all. After all, they were both quite nearly sterile. Dr. Ziegler’s own tests had confirmed it. Mei’s emergency cryostasis had killed her eggs, and Jamison’s sperm was non-viable from his lifelong endurance of radiation. Of course, that hadn’t discouraged his libido. Especially after it was confirmed they they needn’t bother with contraceptives, she had lost count of the times she’d been intimate with the insatiable junker…and she did mean insatiable. He was always ravenous for more, and often came to her multiple times a day. Most often, she had obliged him. She’d ‘obliged’ him many, many times. Could it be? After so many months and countless ‘tries’ together, had there been some stray wandering sperm that had actually managed to find a lonely stray egg? Was it possible? Angela nodded gently, her fingers tightening very softly on Mei’s shoulder to try and focus her attention. “Just take whatever time you need. May I assume that you will want to tell the father in person, or do you want me to call him in?” “N-no. I’m sorry. I’ll tell him. I think I just need to calm down a little. Can I put my things back on and go clear my head?” “Of course. I’ll call you in a few hours, all right? Let me know if you need help with telling him, or anything else.” “Mm.” Angela left the room, and Mei began pulling on her clothes again. Her head was still spinning and as she pulled on her sweater, she looked down at her stomach slowly and then reached for her coat as well, shrugging it on and zipping it up as she rested both hands on her belly. It was always too cold in this clinic. Couldn’t let the baby get cold. …The baby… She had always thought she would make a good mother. Even before she had left for her ill-fated expedition, she had made plans that included little sons or daughters one day. She’d wanted to meet someone nice and settle down with him, and have two or three children in quick succession. They would have grown up together, with lots of toys about science to peak their curiosities, sports to keep them all healthy, and candy as a ‘sometimes’ treat. And she and her husband would attend every play and pageant, every practice, every recital, and they’d love and support one another as they grew up together. She’d wanted a family. Of course, that hadn’t happened. She had been locked out from nine years of her own life, had nearly died while trying to save herself, and her insides had been left ravaged and her hopes of a family dashed to pieces. And then she had not fallen for a responsible family-oriented fellow scientist as planned, but had instead (against all odds and against all better judgments) fallen in with an explosives-obsessed radiation-addled Australian junker whose only family was a pig-masked bodyguard and mercenary killer. They were the two that she had made into a sort of misfit kind of family for her. The kind of family with less piano recitals and soccer matches, and more random explosions and hunting down enemy Talon agents. They were going to make a new, strange, good life together, her and a man who called himself Junkrat. And now that was (again, against all odds) the man who had fathered an impossible baby inside her. How the hell was she supposed to tell him?…

*** “Oi Roadie, can you loan me your communicator?” “Why?” The two junkers were lingering in the cafeteria again. Junkrat had, as usual, inhaled his meal within a minute, and impatiently waited for his bodyguard to finish the massive amount of plates still in front of him. Roadhog seemed more interested in his honey garlic shrimp than his employer, even when the latter made a face and stuck his tongue out at the little orange-pink creatures scattered across the bed of rice. “Ugh! Never liked prawns, or shrimp. Creepy little squiggly things with weird sharp faces, that’s what they are.” “…Kind of like you.” “Fuck you, Roadie. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, give me your comm. I need it to call Mei!” He reached across with one long arm, trying to snag the communicator by the pig-masked man’s ear. “Just hand it here, would ya?” Roadhog leaned back out of range. “Use your own.” “I tried! S’weird, I think it’s not working right. She called me three times, didn’t leave a message. Then she called again, and I was there to pick up, but then she just kinda breathed into the phone, made a weird noise, and it hung up. So I tried calling her back a few times and she didn’t pick up. Think maybe the comm’s busted. Let me use yours!” “If your’s isn’t blinking red, it’s not busted.” “Then what’s the deal with Mei, d’you think? Never took her for the ‘heavy breathing over the phone’ sort of gal. That’s really more your kind of a gig.” Roadhog shrugged with a forkful of shrimp halfway to his jaws. “Hm. Doesn’t seem right.” “Yeh! I know she’s there, but she’s acting all squirrely. And usually you know how she is on the phone. Always picks it up within three rings, sits up straight, speaks real prim and polite and proper, it’s adorable.” He straightened up, pinky stuck out by his communicator by his ear, raising his voice in a poor falsetto of Mei’s accent. “Mei-Ling Zhou speaking!” “Should just go find her, then.” Roadhog said. “You just saying that because she’s not acting right, or because you just want to eat your gross-arse shrimps alone?” “Yes.” Grumbling, Junkrat lifted from his seat and purposefully left behind his own mess of plates for Roadhog to clean up, ignoring his bodyguard’s warning rumbles as he hobbled off. Shrimp or prawns or xiā or whatever anyone called those little things, he was simply not a fan. He exited the cafeteria before any hooks could be flung his way, his peg clacking noisily down the hall as he skulked off towards the direction of the dorms. Pounding on the door of Mei’s room, he received no answer. He tried the communicator yet again, and still no answer. Was she in a meeting, maybe? Maybe at another of her appointments at Mercy’s clinic? She wasn’t due out for any missions, he knew, so she had to be somewhere. The meeting room was empty. And the library. And the entertainment room was not empty, but had that creepy African omnic horse-lady-thing hanging about inside instead of Mei, and he was none too keen on sticking around anything omnic, especially horse-lady-things. Everywhere he tried was empty, and when he knocked on the door of Mercy’s clinic, she gave him a very strange look when he asked if she’d seen Mei. She’d said that she hadn’t seen her since that morning, but urged him to try and contact her quickly, and then quickly excused herself. He was traveling from clinic towards the practice grounds, when he spotted movement up on top of one of the towers over by the cliffs, by one of the old satellite comm discs. Squinting, he was fairly sure he saw a dark head of hair, and a little flash of color that might have been a red-beaded pin with a rhinestone snowflake. Brightening, he quickened his limping gait across the pavement, metal peg clacking noisily as he stood at bottom of the stairs. “Mei! Is that you, babe?” he called. “Jamie?” she called back, sounding a bit surprised. “What are you doing out here?” “Looking for you, obviously!” He started up after her, poking his head out to see her sitting by herself on a beach blanket out in the sun. “Hey! You sunbathing? Make room for a rat! I’m real good at sunbathing, got lots of tips for ya. Now you’re gonna want a nice, even, all-over tan. So, topless sunbathing’s the way to go-” “Jamie.” “Take it from me, sun-baked tits are some of the nicest-” “Jamie!” “Got a nice sun-baked pair on me, meself! One time I was in Sydney-” “JAMIE!” He blinked and looked at her. She didn’t really seem to be in the proper, relaxed state of mind required for topless sunbathing, not at all. She looked fretful and a little drained. Screwing his face up to one side, he squinted and sat down on the blanket a little more quietly. “Not really sunbathing at all, were you?” “Sorry. I was going to call you later. Again.” “Was your comm busted? Thought mine was, but Roadie wouldn’t loan me his, so I went looking for you. Looked everywhere, actually. What’re you doing all the way out here by yourself? You in some kind of thinking funk again? I know how you get stuck in the muck sometimes, eh? Well, your favorite rat’s here for you now, darl!” She managed a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, I guess since you’re here now, there’s no getting around it. I think…we need to talk about something, Jamison.” “Sure! What are we talkin’ about, again?” “Okay…I’ve been going through this in my head over and over again, trying to think how to tell you. And I still don’t think I’ve decided on anything so, I just don’t know what to do. So…I’m just going to tell you, okay? So please just…Okay, I’m going to tell you…” She took a deep breath…and then continued blabbering on despite her best efforts. “Just give me a second, okay? I was going to call you but then I couldn’t, and then I thought maybe we should meet at the clinic, but it’s so cold in there, and it’s a lot to-” One long, lanky arm snaked around her abruptly, scooting her across the blanket and up against his side. “Think I might have been a bad influence on you. I’m normally the one with the mouth going off before the rest of me. Take a breath, c’mon, just say it, spit it out.” “Okay, I went to see Dr. Ziegler today. I-it’s been confirmed and…uh, four weeks…I-I’m…” “C’mon.” “Jamie, she says I’m pregnant.” He froze beside her, every usually twitching muscle going stone still. Very, very slowly, he turned to look at her, his face shadowed from the sun and his yellow eyes practically glowing. She couldn’t place the tone of his voice at all. “…What?” She took a breath. “I’m pregnant.” “…No you’re not.” He looked down at her stomach like it was about to bite him, lifting a hand, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “…You having a go at me, Mei?” She was almost relieved at his trepidation. It had been much the same as her own strange wariness, and she had been afraid that he would be as enthusiastic about it as he was about other things, with hooting and hollering and far too much celebration for something she hadn’t even fully accepted yet. Instead he sat there with doubt and surprise, repeating the same words she had said earlier. ‘No you’re not’. No, you can’t be pregnant. She couldn’t be pregnant. THEY couldn’t be pregnant. Not them. “S-she said that the odds were less than 1 percent…but we somehow hit that one percent together. It’s about four weeks.” “But my balls are no good. And you got bad eggs. I mean, we can’t…” “We could. Just, less than one percent. And…we did. I’m about four weeks in. I mean, it’s not quite a baby-” His eyes darted down at the word ‘baby’ again, looking down at her belly. It wasn’t swollen at all, and he had trouble imagining something like a human baby in there. He’d seen pictures of babies before they were babies. Ugly little things, they were, like a prawn, or a shrimp. Like the honey garlic shrimp that Roadhog had been eating for lunch earlier, one of those shrimp, floating around somewhere in what should have been a barren womb. He listed his mechanical fingers to his head, pulling at his hair. “No. Fuck…Fuck, can’t be. Tell her to test again-” “She checked and re-checked again. She didn’t believe it at first, either.” “Well she’s wrong. Fuck me, she’s the one who said we were both bodgy on the inside! She’s the one who said-” “Less than one percent chance, Jamison…” “Uh…Are we sure…it’s mine?…” She didn’t bother with an answer to that one. He put his face in his hands, mumbling expletives and something about shrimp to himself. Mei waited patiently beside him, wrapping her arms around her knees and rocking back and forth slowly as she waited for the junker to gather himself. And finally he did, peeking one eye out between his fingers. “What do we do, Mei?” “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I only found out this morning.” “Is it…I mean, do we know it’s good?” His voice sounded surprisingly small. “What do you mean, good?” “I mean…four limbs, two eyes, two ears, a nose, does it have everything? Is it okay in the brain? It’s not like me? I mean, if it’s from me-” She seemed surprised, then a little stern, pulling herself in against his bony ribs and staying there. “No, Jamie, I don’t want you to think like that. It’s not like that.” “It might be like that,” he said. “Mei, you’ve never seen junker babies. They’re not good. The radiation’s no good for babies. Even if you can have them, and there’s not many, they’re not…they’re not always right. It does stuff to ‘em.” He gave her a rather haunted look. There had been very few pregnancies in Junkertown, and news always spread like wildfire when a woman’s belly started to grow. But, news would also spread like wildfire when it was ‘just like the others’. A lot of times they’d just be tiny premature stillborns, dead before they could live. Other times they would come out withered and malformed from the poisons in their air and water. And few junker women had the resources or the werewithal to try and raise an unhealthy baby. He’d seen one of them dead once, abandoned out in the lonely desert; a dried husk of what should have been a baby, with its fingers fused together, extra limbs twisted around where its legs should have been, and its sunken eyes the size of grapefruits, too big for its skull. He usually put such things out of his mind. Not like he was ever going to have a baby, after all… “I think it’s too early to tell?” she said. “It’s not really anything yet, at four weeks.” “A lil’ shrimp…” he muttered, looking to her belly again. “Not even a shrimp,” she confirmed, even if she thought the comparison a little odd. “I guess we just…I’m not sure what we want to do? This changes a lot of things.” “If it’s not a good one, you gotta tell the doc to do something. S’not right, makin’ a baby live like that…” His gaze had gone far-off again, and she could tell that whatever he was thinking of, it was bothering him. “Heh. Figures…Everything I make, it breaks apart eventually, eh?” “Jamison, it might be fine. I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but it’s not like that. It might be good. This isn’t Junkertown,” she said gently. “Dr. Ziegler and I have already talked about all the medical schedules we’ll need, to make sure everything is good and that she’s healthy.” His head darted up abruptly at that. “She?” “No! No, no,” she said quickly, waving both hands. “I mean, um..Oh, that just came out. It’s too early to be anything yet. I just kind of said it. I mean…It would be okay, wouldn’t it? If it was a she?” His eyes widened down at her. “A little girl? Okay? What kind of a question is that? Of course it would be okay. But…it can’t be like me. It’s gotta be like you. A little baby version of my Mei running around, that’s more than okay. She needs to look just like you though. Gotta be real smart like you, too. Hell, there should be as many little Meis as possible, a whole army of them!” “An army? Oh, um…Let’s slow down a bit, there. That might be too many. Besides…She might look like you,” Mei pointed out, the edges of her lips turning up in a little smile. “I’ve always liked your eyes, she might have your eyes?” He paused at that. Slowly, the twisted husk in his mind’s eye shifted and changed, first to the honey garlic shrimp from Roadhog’s plate, and then it grew; with all four limbs, two ears, a nose, and two eyes…his eyes. A pair of orange-yellow eyes, on a pair of fat little cheeks that looked more like Mei’s than his. Maybe a little girl with his eyes would be okay, although she still looked more like her mother. Maybe she’d have his hair too? Or his freckles? Or what if it was a boy? A little boy that looked like him or Mei would be fine too. He grew up scrawny and scrangly, so that was what he imagined. A little boy with band-aids on his knees and tape around his glasses…glasses over dark eyes like Mei’s. But they had to be healthy, they had to be whole. They couldn’t be like the broken things he was used to. They had to be…good…Like their mom. And maybe, just maybe, a little like him? Mei said she’d wanted the baby to have his eyes, after all. Maybe they could be like him, and still be good. Maybe it would all be all right, if they were careful. “D’ya think…I mean, can we be sure they’d be all right?” He asked cautiously, trying not to let the little pictures in his mind turn back into the radiation-poisoned husks he’d seen before. “Heh. I said they. Like, more’n one.” “We have one of the best doctors in the world here. I think that would be okay?” She said a little more quickly than she’d meant, and shied away a little when he looked at her. “I mean…A boy or a girl would be fine. Or both. Or having more than one. I always used to imagine I’d have both, so I’m good with either. Or both. Especially both? I haven’t really thought about it in such a long time, having kids. I thought I just couldn’t, and that was that…” “Thought I couldn’t too. I mean, not just my bodgy balls, but finding someone who’d put up with me, eh? Plus, never thought I’d be a good dad. I didn’t have a dad and then there’s the way I am, and just I mean…me? I couldn’t…can’t…be a dad?” She rested her cheek against his sunburnt shoulder, the tips of her hair tickling his arm. “Well, I guess we were both wrong?” He was still having trouble grasping the concept of the whole ‘baby’ thing, much less his ‘baby’ thing. Of course, that meant he would be a father. And that whole idea still seemed pretty damn preposterous, him being a dad. He was pretty sure he was in his mid-twenties somewhere, so that part wasn’t the issue. But the radiation had eaten away bits of his mind and his memory, he had a love of pyrotechnics that nobody else understood, and only a few short years ago he had torn a path of destruction and chaos across multiple countries in a crime spree that had landed him on the telly the world over. What sort of dad was that to a baby? Couldn’t bring a baby on a heist, could you? Babies meant lots of screaming, crying, pooping, laughing, changing nappies… Although, he was honestly used to pretty much all of that, really…except maybe the nappy-changing. And he would have to change a lot of things, not just nappies. Everything would change, especially how things were with him and Mei. “It’s kind of overwhelming, isn’t it?” Mei murmured next to him. “I thought maybe Dr. Ziegler had just found an abnormality a few hours ago…and it turned out to be a baby?” “That’s a pretty big kind of an abnormality, lovey. We…We can keep it, though? Yeh?” “Well…I want to. And I think you want to? Don’t you?” “Yeh, I want to. If it’s a good one, and it’s gonna be a good one. But, what do we do with them? I dunno how to be a dad to anyone.” “Well, I’ve never been a mother before…but I always wanted to be,” she said, and there was a little glow her cheeks, and her smile seemed more steady. “It’s not like we’re teenagers or anything. I mean you’re in your twenties and I’m…I’m still technically, sort of barely thirty-one? In a way, right? That’s okay, I think. And we’ll have lots of help here, with doctors and friends, and we can always ask questions to Ana or Torbjorn or-” “Wait! You’re right, we can. Doesn’t that little man have like eighty-seven children? He’s got to know everything there is to know about raisin’ babies! And yeah, Nan will know everything too. She’s aces, bet she knows twenty different ways to change a nappy on the battlefield…Although I guess you won’t be out on the battlefield for a while.” Very hesitantly, he reached out a large, broad black-nailed hand, looking to Mei as if for permission. After he received a little encouraging nod, he went to place it on her stomach. Strange, it didn’t feel very different to him at all. “Gotta keep our little prawn safe in there.” “I thought you didn’t like prawns? They scare you?” She teased. “They do. And I gotta say, I am fuckin’ terrified of this one in particular,” he said, rubbing his palm over her belly. “Oi, that’s what I’m gonna call this whole thing! Operation: Miracle Prawn.” “Please don’t.” “Too late, it’s official. Besides…We got to go talk to Doc Angelface and make sure everything’s apples with you on the insides. D’you even realize how strong n’ smart this one’s gonna be, darl? Just think how fuckin’ determined this baby is to get born, beating those less than one percent odds? That right there, that’s from me, that’s junker determination. Or I guess that might be from you too, that will to survive against anything what comes at us? And with our combined smarts? Fucking hell, Mei, this baby’s going to rule the world.” “I guess I never thought about it that way. Maybe she…or he…maybe they really do want to be born that badly. I’m still not calling it ‘Operation: Miracle Prawn’, though.” “You’ll come around.” His lips pressed to the top of her head, and his prior fear and wariness seemed to have mostly abated, though his hand on her belly was shaking a bit. “Arright. Like I said, we gotta go check in with Doc Angelface, and then Hog, and then Hana and Lucio, and then everybody else on the whole base.  And then probably the world. And then I guess I got to read up on baby things because if I think about it any I think I’m just about ready to chunder everywhere, so I’m not gonna think about it right now. In fact, right now…I’m thinking of something else?” His hand on her belly rubbed in wider circles, until it started to slip downward, his lithe fingers sliding into the top of her pants. She hadn’t quite been expecting that, eyes widening. “Jamison!” He hauled himself on top of her, tilting his lower body to keep his weight off her stomach. “At some point I’m gonna have to stop rootin’ you. Because of the baby and all, gotta take good care of the baby. So we gotta get lots of prime ‘us’ time in while we can. And before we go to the doc’s, there’s nothing I want more than to root you silly. Again. Let’s put another baby in there, make it twins.” “That’s not how it works!” she protested, even as her arms looped around his bony shoulders. “I’ll show you how it works,” he replied, already starting to peel the bottom of her shirt upward, pausing to rest a broad palm across her stomach. “Can’t believe it. Still can’t believe it. Probably won’t really believe it until you’re getting all big, heh. Less than one percent, eh? Heh, not for my girl and the little junker inside her! And all the ones after that! Operation: Miracle Prawn is officially a go!”

He grinned when he saw she was about to give him another earbashing about the name, and smothered her words with his lips instead.

***

(This is not actually my personal headcanon. I like to think that Junkrat and Mei actually come to terms with their inability to conceive, eventually. But, fanfiction is for imagining crazy scenarios and I had a few requests for this specific subject! So, here you go!)

Unexpected Goodbyes

     He had been waiting outside the headquarters of what he knew as “The Fifth Pledge” in Old Town for what felt like an eternity. No one was around the place, at least not outside, and he was left to pick at the dirt under his claws as he waited. All he needed was one to throw his question at then he had a boat to Kalimdor to catch. His ears perked up at the approach of light footsteps. "Waitin' for something specific, wolfie?"

    A woman, half-elf by the look of it, short, skinny and sharp, eyed him over. He stood quickly and it was immediately apparent that he towered over her. "I'm uh, looking for 'Fifth Pledge', I think it was? Was told they hang 'round here." He keeps a respectful distance from the woman. "That you?"  The halfling quirked her brow slightly.

    "Sure, they hang around here. Old Town's pretty popular these days."

    "So that's a no then.Or a subtle, go away, perhaps."

    "Never said that, what do you need? Maybe I can help. What's your name, friend?"

    Marius looked up to the sky briefly and furrowed his brow before looking back to her. "Look, I gotta go soon, 'ave a boat t'catch. I'm lookin' for a girl named Ku? She’s an old friend of mine. I know she works for your boss and I ain't seen her around in a while. She doesn't like it when I 'hover' or whatever so I've let her be to focus on her work, but I'm headed out t'Darkshore and I wanted t'make sure she was alright before I go? Is she around?"

    A second woman approaches as he speaks. He guessed this was Daaé, Ku’s boss he’d been told about by the way the halfling regarded her. Was this who she’d been muttering to on her comm? The two exchanged glances before looking back to him. “We should talk inside.”

    The halfling beckons him to follow as Daaé unlocks the door. His eyes narrow, remaining trained on the two. He was not one to trust easily and he had a bad feeling about this, but he followed as asked. The door was closed behind him and the two exchanged uncomfortable words and glances. Marius crossed his arms and waited by the door, beginning to feel nervous.

    "What have you told him?" Daaé’s Question was directed toward the Halfling, who he would later learn, goes by ‘Aio’. Aio cracked her knuckles out of habit, a nervous tick.

    "Nothing."

    “What's your name, Sir?" The boy's words came quick and sharp.

    "Marius Blackwood. What's this about?" Daaé winced at the name.

    "Uh.-- Ku was kidnapped a while ago by men in hooded clothes. They threatened to take our youngest and, it took us weeks to properly track the location. Our Umbramancer did his best...."      Aio watched the two through intense eyes, taking in every detail. Her heart started thumping in her chest, knowing what was coming.

    "You might want to sit down.." Marius' jaw clenched. He stilled completely save for his too-long ears pinning back flat. He remained silent, his gold eyes bright and demanding. He waited silently for them to continue.

    "Well.." Daaé trailed off. "We found her.--And..she..was hung by her entrails..with her--eyes gouged out." She cleared her throat. "..I'll spare some of the..the other details.." The woman looked towards the floor. "She called out for you and I.--They..recorded it." She kept her eyes on the ground. "I'm..sorry for your loss." She paused for a long moment. "Assuming you're that Marius--She said that you were right and she's sorry." Aio hung her head, then. She was afraid to look this stranger in the eyes. Afraid to admit how at fault she was. Silent in her pain and grief.

    Marius remained as still as the death they spoke of as he listened and remained so long after the woman he'd assumed was Daae had fallen silent. "...Did you bring her home..." It was not a question, but a demand.

    "We couldn't.--Her stomach was nearly severed and her corpse was too rotted. If we moved her--." She trailed off. "She was too far gone to move.." She closed her eyes.

    "So you left her there."

    "We burned her." She motioned to Aio and Aio broke her silence to admit aloud what she had done,

    "I burned the body where it lay. We honored her as best we could and left." Her words were flat, not cold, but lacking in the much needed emotion for the moment at hand.

    "We did avenge her however...For what it's worth."

    "I beat the life from her killer myself, with my bare hands."

    It seemed his composition Marius held was dangerously close to breaking as his next words were punctuated with a slight tremble though, to his credit, he remained perfectly still save for the flare in his bright eyes. "I was th'one who told her t'get a real job. She was so proud of this too, even though she never told me exactly what 'this' was....” Silence. “You don't know what you had with her y’know... What a waste..." He turns toward the door.

    Olivia narrowed her eyes, a little "..Hm." Is all she muttered. Aio bit her tongue, unable to speak. She was filled with insurmountable regret in this moment. "I… I’m sorry..."

    "It's no ones fault." Daaé said quickly.

    “Isn't it?" Aio snapped back, unable to stahp herself.

    "Aio. If anything it's the two people who were ordered to watch her...But even still.." Aio hung her head, Olivia was right and she new it.

    “I’ve heard enough.” Marius stops, just before pushing past the door and speaks quietly. "I will put the blame with you, even though she probably put it on herself."

    It was remarkable how he retained his composure. Long enough to stride desperately through the door and past the crew loitering outside the den of The Pledge and their conversation about worgen on leashes that normally would have earned a verbal tirade from him. Long enough shift, long enough to take off though his wings were unsteady. Just barely long enough to carry him over the Dwarven District, away from the city, away from people and their prying eyes to the trees.

    His wings failed him then, sending him nearly crashing into his old hideout amongst the branches. His packs and his cloak slipped from his back as he shifted, on elbows and knees, his form fluctuating and unstable. A hand came to desperately grip at a face that for a moment could not decide between human and beast, the expression upon it shifting in its own way from hollow, to tortured. Eventually, as tears welled silently and fell to stain the bark below, dark fur melted away to leave what was no feared beast, but simply a human boy left vulnerable in his raw grief.

They had taken her, and he had let her go. And now, he didn't even have a piece of her.

All That Glitters

Pairing: Reapzo

Rating: T

Summary: Reaper does whatever he can to protect what remains of who he once was and Hanzo, who he has come to call his partner. Sometimes taking care of his partner involves gifts of shiny objects. That’s how you woo a dragon, after all.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- 

Written for Reapzo Week 2017 hosted by @reapzo , for both AU and Under the Mask prompts

Read on Ao3

Author’s Note: So yeah, Reapzo is like... my rare pair ship, so I was pretty stoked to see a week event for them. So have this AU I cooked up. Might turn this into a series if I feel like exploring this more.

    The chandelier lay in pieces, the crystal crunching under his boots as he surveyed the damage. Tonight’s mission had been a success, with one more perfect assassination under Widowmaker’s belt. The chandelier’s delicate chain had been in the way of her bullet, scattering the party goers as it fell before another politician lay dead to her sniper rifle a fraction of a second later.     Yay.     Not that it mattered to Reaper. Working with Talon provided him with resources he needed to see to his own ends. Namely to find what puppeteer had pulled strings behind the fall of Overwatch. The fact that someone had snuck into the organization that should have been his from the start, and destroyed it from the inside out and then turned him into the scapegoat had not sat well with him. Not at all.     So he worked with Talon, bided his time. All Reaper had stretching before him was time after all. His death and his rebirth as this… thing had seen to that.     A glitter on the floor caught his attention, and he knelt to retrieve a faceted crystal shard that had survived the plummet to the floor. If Sombra, who was sniffing around for more blackmail material had noticed, she said nothing through the comm. Typically she called him out on his odd habit of picking up shiny objects. Reaper was glad for her silence this time. The more she stuck her nose out of his business, the better.     The more it meant Reaper could keep Talon from sinking their claws into Hanzo. 

    If the things they had done to Amelie Lacroix had provided them with a ruthless killer, Reaper could not fathom the damage they could do with an honest to god dragon. Besides, Hanzo was his. They could not touch what was his.     Reaper pocketed the crystal and made his way to the exit, dissolving into smoke halfway. Widowmaker and Sombra could handle the rest of the mission and report back without him. He had other places to be, and he didn’t need Talon’s pay. Reaper was not one of their little pets like Widowmaker was, either, he refused to be.     Reaper did put as much distance between himself and Talon though, just to be on the safe side, taking a random direction and sticking to it. Once he was satisfied with how far he’d gone, Reaper scored his claws over his flesh to dig out the tracker Talon had implemented when they thought he wasn’t looking. They thought they had been so sneaky with this one as if Reaper wouldn’t notice being shot at by a Talon agent in the middle of a larger firefight. Feeling the tiny device break between his fingers was satisfying.     Reaper flicked the bits of the tracker off into some foliage, smoke wafting from his self-inflicted wounds as he pulled out his own tracking device of sorts. It was a small black market piece, incredibly expensive, and only responded to its twin device. Reaper flicked on the device and waited. The wait was never long, thankfully, as the device beeped a second later, having connected with its twin. The only other thing to happen was the briefest flash of coordinates to cross the small screen before it went dead again, having done its job.     Five days of travel later found Reaper at those coordinates, which ended up being the yawning maw of a dark cave deep in the dense forests of New Zealand. One of Hanzo’s lairs, no doubt, judging by the long claw marks the dragon’s claws had scored into the stone around the entrance. As he passed into the cave, he couldn’t help spread his fingers to trail his own claws along the marks left by Hanzo, suppressing a shiver when the range of the dragon’s claws easily dwarfed his own.     Still, he made his way deeper, knowing perfectly well he was going to be both welcome and safe walking into a dragon’s den. It didn’t even take him long to find said dragon either, the shifting of stone giving away the massive beast as it clung to the stalactites that hung from the ceiling of the cave. Blue, glowing eyes peered down at Reaper, the long shifting form of the dragon tensing and wiggling as it prepared to pounce.     “Hello.” Reaper greeted as the beast leapt down to the cave floor, landing before Reaper to press it’s large head into his torso to nuzzle. Reaper let his clawed hands wander to begin scratching behind the dragon’s large ears, touching his mask against the fluff of the dragon’s mane. “I know. I missed you too.”     No sooner were the words out of his mouth when Reaper found his arms full of the dragon’s humanoid form, scaled hands fumbling with the clasps to the bone white mask. Reaper only curled his arms around the smaller form tighter, patient as Hanzo removed the mask from his face finally.     “There you are,” the dragon murmured, not hesitating in the slightest to cup Reaper’s head in his hand, thumb grazing the corner of his lover’s ruined mouth. “my Gabriel.”     Hearing his name said so softly, without the curses that followed it as it did outside this cave, their haven, made Gabriel’s heart stutter in its already uneven rhythm. He pulled his dragon closer, pressing his forehead to Hanzo’s, and closed his eyes if only to make their reunion last for a moment longer. A purr like the low rumble of thunder started up in Hanzo’s throat, and soon Gabriel found himself on the receiving end of many small kisses to his cheeks.     The sound just made Gabriel want to hold Hanzo closer, so he did, jostling the dragon slightly in his arms to better carry him. Gabriel frowned, though, when he realised how light his lover was, even with the long tail currently curling around his middle.     “Your prosthetics are broken again, aren’t they?” His hold turned protective, tucking Hanzo’s head under his chin as he made his way deeper into the cave, mindful of Hanzo’s horns. “Did someone come after you?”     Hanzo was content to be spoiled, his clawed fingers pulling away Gabriel’s hood so they could card through dark curls unhindered, “Yes. But they are dead now. They fell to my claws.”     “Good. Saves me the trouble of doing it myself.”     Finding Hanzo’s nest was not hard, Hanzo had no doubt dug the holes that caused the pools of light in the otherwise dark cave that lit the way. This time Hanzo’s nest had been thrown together out of scraps of fabric piled and pillaged from nearby towns long abandoned during the omnic crisis. Gabriel gently set Hanzo down on the edge of it, had to physically pry the dragon’s claws off his body to stop his dragon from preventing him from looking for the damaged prosthetic legs.     “There is time for cuddling later.” Gabriel answered as a pout was sent his way, “I just want to check out the damage. See how fixable they are.”     To placate Hanzo, he shed his coat and tossed it over for the dragon to snuggle with while he retrieved Hanzo’s prosthetics from where the dragon had stored them at the edge of the nest. Gabriel sat in the patch of sun closest to the nest, his metal claws traced the pock marks and scratches the legs had gained since he last looked them over. One of them seemed to be in good condition. The other, however, appeared to have been punctured with a blade of some sort near the ankle joint. Not a simple fix without proper tools.     “The nearest town is not too far from here.” Gabriel turned back to Hanzo, had to suppress a snicker when all he could see was those glowing blue eyes peeking from under the hood of his coat, “I could go get these looked at there, possibly.”     Hanzo made a grumble of agreement, shuffling towards Gabriel until he could rest his chin on Gabriel’s shoulder, “I would be grateful. Crawling there in my human guise would take too long.”     Gabriel nodded in agreement, turned and pulled Hanzo into his arms, “I almost forgot, I have something for you, Beautiful.”     That had the dragon perking up, eyes glinting at the promise of another treasure for him to stash away in one of his other lairs. Gabriel only dug through his pockets, pulling out the shard of crystal, holding it up in the shaft of sunlight streaming into the cavern. Hanzo’s pupils went from thin slits to round in seconds, much like a cats would, and before Gabriel could properly hand it over the crystal was already snatched from his hand.     “I love it.” the purr was present again as the dragon turned Gabriel’s gift over in his hands, “I could turn it into a necklace. Wear it. Carry your gift with me.”     “You could.” Gabriel let his head rest on Hanzo’s shoulder, “I hadn’t thought of that. I would have done it for you. Found you a beautiful gold chain.”     Hanzo’s purr deepened, and he turned he nosed under Gabriel’s chin, “Perhaps that can be your next gift.”     “Oh? Making suggestions now, are you?” Gabriel teased, pulling Hanzo even closer to him, running his clawed fingers through Hanzo’s hair. Long ago he’d fret over keeping his claws on, but Hanzo liked them, so more often than not he kept them on when handling his dragon. “Greedy.”     “I just want to surround myself in the courting gifts you bring me, is that so bad?” Hanzo fixed his gaze on the crystal in his claws. “Since, you won’t let me make you my mate yet.”     Gabriel sighed, could feel another talk coming on, “I know.”     The noise Hanzo made next was best described as a disgruntled chirp, sitting up in Gabriel’s arms and fixing him with a narrowed stare. “I still feel that your fears are unwarranted. Mating you will not be a danger to me. I am a Dragon, and there is little in this world that could kill me.”     Talon killing you is not what I’m worried about. But instead of voicing that, Gabriel cupped Hanzo’s face in both hands, bringing the dragon closer to press their foreheads together. “I know, Baby, I know. I just have some things to take care of, then we can make this official, okay? There will be no more of this either, me having to leave you all the time.”     To further calm his lover, Gabriel started to run his claws through Hanzo’s hair, tugging it free of it’s gold ribbon to make the movement easier. Hanzo stared at him for the longest time before he gave into the attention of his intended, pressing his face into Gabriel’s neck, purring low at the gentle scratch of Gabriel’s claws through his hair.     “… I know you’re being true when you say that. I just worry.” Hanzo admitted softly, his tail curling around Gabriel. “I just don’t want to lose you one day to your… work.”     “You won’t. I’m pretty sure I can’t die anyways. You’re stuck with me forever.”     Which was literally the only upside to Gabriel’s current state of being. Knowing he and Hanzo would be together for as long as they wished. As long as Gabriel could keep Talon away from Hanzo, for Hanzo’s good and the rest of the world’s.     Hanzo had closed his eyes, fingers and claws caught in Gabriel’s clothing, “Promise?”     “Promise.” Gabriel kissed the top of Hanzo’s head, “Soon as I’ve gotten to the bottom of everything I have to, we’ll make ourselves officially mates, and disappear. It’ll just be you and me, and I’ll bring you as many shiny things as you want. Maybe I’ll finally find you some pearls.”   “You better.” Hanzo murmured, and Gabriel couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped him.     They left that issue there for the rest of the night, speaking of other things, mostly about what Hanzo had been up to. Gabriel avoided talking about his missions as Reaper, even though Hanzo already knew he was a mercenary for hire and wasn’t above taking dubious jobs. Hanzo himself was in the same boat as him, after all, taking jobs to survive. It had been how they had met.     Their talks went long into the night, both of them falling asleep curled up together in Hanzo’s nest. The dragon had stolen Gabriel’s coat for a blanket and had snuggled right up to Gabriel’s chest, purring in his sleep. Which suited Gabriel just fine, because Hanzo’s purring was more comforting than any lullaby.     And when they woke the next morning, Gabriel took Hanzo to get his prosthetics looked at like he promised. They made a day of it, going to the closest town to Hanzo’s lair, which was nice. Even if Gabriel hid his face with a scarf and a hoodie every time, they were near people. Hanzo at least managed to make Gabriel feel better about his disguise by complaining about how his own made his scales itch. Gabriel rubbed along Hanzo’s left arm in response to help alleviate that itch, trailing the dragon tattoo that only appeared when Hanzo took a full human disguise. Usually, in the dragon’s humanoid form, said arm was covered in scales. Hanzo had to stop himself from purring at the gentle touch.     The end of the day saw them both heading back through the dense forest, Hanzo’s prosthetics fixed by the local engineer, but he still let Gabriel carry him on his back. Distance never got any easier for the dragon, which was fine with Gabriel. He could care less about being clung to by the dragon. Gabriel had missed Hanzo too. He’d never tire of Hanzo’s comforting purr.     Especially at night, with the dragon tucked into his side, speaking of everything and nothing at all until the topics ran out and nothing but the sound of Hanzo’s purr present. At least, until Gabriel’s dragon spoke again.     “…Stay.” Hanzo murmured against Gabriel’s chest, claws drawing lazy patterns, mindful not to catch the sharp tips in the fabric of Gabriel’s shirt.     Gabriel hummed softly, petting a hand through Hanzo’s hair, having almost dozed off to the sound of the purr, “What was that?”     “I said “You should stay.” You know,” Hanzo lifted his head to fix Gabriel with that electric blue stare, “with me. Where I can keep you safe.”     “I know. I want to, but—“     “But nothing.” Hanzo growled, winding his limbs more around Gabriel to hold tight to him, “I can’t stand to see you leave. I don’t want you to go back to wherever it is you go. You are unhappy there.”     “It’s only temporary.” Gabriel’s words did nothing to make the dragon let go, and if anything it made him cling closer, “Hanzo.”     His dragon growled unhappily against Gabriel’s chest, “You keep saying that. When will it stop being temporary?”   “When I get my answers. I’ve told you this.” Gabriel gathered Hanzo in his arms, pulled him closer in an attempt to soothe him. “We just have to be patient, Baby.”     He felt more than heard Hanzo’s huff, but he slumped into Gabriel’s arms a second later, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to push you to be with me. The last thing I want is to fight.”     “Shh. It’s okay. I want to be with you, but until I’m done getting my answers, it’s not safe. I work with some evil fuckers, Hanzo. They’d do everything they could to use us against each other if they figured out what I’m doing.” Like they used Amelie to stop Gerard.     Hanzo tightened his hold on Gabriel, “If that’s the case… will you be safe?”     Gabriel’s hands paused where they had been rubbing soothing circles on Hanzo’s back, and he hoped his dragon wouldn’t notice. “They can’t catch smoke,” Gabriel reassured instead, pressing a kiss to Hanzo’s forehead.     Hanzo hummed in response, nuzzling more into Gabriel’s form. If that answer had eased Hanzo’s worries or only spurred them further, Gabriel didn’t know. Wouldn’t know either, for the dragon fell asleep soon after. At least Hanzo purred in his sleep, and no sound made Gabriel more at ease. He never slept much anyway, more or less drifted in and out of consciousness, only now with Hanzo’s warmth and weight at his side.     Of course, no peace lasts forever, and a quiet beeping started up from somewhere to Gabriel’s right. Reluctantly, he moved from Hanzo’s side, had to pry the dragon’s claws out of the fabric of his clothing before he rummaged through his own things to pull out a communicator. Gabriel took one last look over his shoulder at the sleeping form of Hanzo before he moved from the nest entirely, answering the communicator when he was sure he was far enough not to wake his partner.       “Reaper here.”     The call itself was short and succinct, most calls for the shadier jobs were, and Gabriel hung up the communicator with a sigh. He’d have to leave Hanzo earlier than he wanted. Again. Gabriel fiddled with the communicator in his hand as he turned to look back at Hanzo. The dragon hadn’t woken up, though he’d stopped purring, most likely because Gabriel was no longer close to him.     Gabriel rubbed at his eyes, suddenly feeling heavy and old. He made his way back to the nest and resumed laying next to Hanzo. Gabriel propped himself up this time, though, let his hand move to run through Hanzo's hair softly. At the touch Hanzo stirred, those blue eyes blinking up at Gabriel in a sleepy haze before the dragon snuggled closer to his chest. The purring Hanzo had stopped immediately resumed. It made Gabriel’s already irregular heartbeat stutter, an uneasy ache settling into his bones.     Hanzo would no doubt get upset with Gabriel if he told him he’d have to leave earlier than expected, and saying goodbye had always been something Gabriel had hated. Decision made, Gabriel gently shifted out of Hanzo’s embrace. The confused chirp the dragon made in his sleep was nearly enough to change Gabriel’s mind before he slowly collected his coat from the edge of the nest. His heart broke at the tiny distressed chirps Hanzo was making in his slumber, most likely some instinct of the dragon’s telling him to hold close to his mate-to-be. Gabriel balled up one of the looser blankets that made up the edge of the nest and stepped closer to the dragon to let Hanzo’s questing hands grab hold of it.     Hanzo quieted now that he was snuggled close to something, and Gabriel couldn’t help but stroke his lover’s cheek for one last time that night before leaning in to press a kiss to his dragon’s forehead.     “I’m sorry, Hanzo. I have to go. Stay safe, and I’ll visit you when I can.” Gabriel promised, the words so much easier to say when he couldn’t see the hurt and concern in Hanzo’s gaze. Gabriel pulled on his coat and made his way to the cave entrance, collecting the bone white mask of Reaper on the way out. Mask back in place, Reaper took one last glance backwards into the cave, forcing down the longing that made his heart heavier than a stone in his chest. It wouldn’t help him anyway, not now.     So Reaper forced himself forward, leaving both Gabriel and Hanzo safe back in the haven they shared.