#ive seen him in visions with an entire galaxy as his hat before | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flcshbanginarchive-blog · 7 years

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Five times kissed 8)

kissed

i )

truth be told? he didn't care much for the strike commander. not that he disliked him, per se — he brought up the same level of annoyance just about anyone would towards their superior, anyway, without disliking him as a person. not that he really knows him well enough for that — blackwatch might run next to overwatch, and sometimes with them, but that doesn't mean he gets to run into the commander an awful lot of times, the most he did is when gabriel happens to have him around when morrison wants something from him. (gabe, obviously. not jesse. who'd want anything from jesse?)

jack morrison is... someone who exists. not necessarily anywhere close to the same space he occupied (or even in the same galaxy, for all it counts). he supposed the commander does a well enough job, and the few times he had run with overwatch he'd given clear enough orders, easy enough to follow, and gabe likes him, which is enough in jesse's book. he's twenty-two and as ana liked to point out, he still doesn't know shit, so running with whatever gives seems appropriate enough.

(nobody asks for his opinion, anyway. so what if he found the older man oddly attractive? nobody ever had to know.)

and even if someone did ask, nobody ever takes him serious. so, blowing kisses in the general direction of the strike commander as he makes his way out of gabe's office, gaining irritated looks from said man?

nobody questions that. it's just jesse being jesse.

ii )

he's twenty-five, and he still doesn't know shit, and he's made mistakes. bad mistakes. one of them is currently causing a rather large amount of blood to flow freely out of his body and mix with the dirt underneath. his head feels light. maybe because he hit it when he fell after getting shot. maybe because he's bleeding out. probably both.

been an easy enough missions. the one with overwatch usually are — at least compared to the blackwatch ones. nobody expected any actual fighting to happen, he's just there to make sure nothing gets out of hand. like agents getting shot. and bleeding profoundly on the ground. that's probably exactly the sort of thing he was there to avoid, but he underestimated the situation, and it doesn't matter that the guy who put lead into his side got his fair share into his forehead if nobody comes along quickly.

he's pretty sure he asked for someone. it's hard to tell, with the dizziness in his head and the black that starts settling in on his vision. it's equally hard to make sure he did and ask another time, just for sure. he can't even tell if he presses the damn button on his comm or not. hell, for all he can make out, he's trying to phone with a frigging brick.

can't tell, either, who it is that finally comes. blonde, he makes out. probably angela. she's not been around as long, but she does a damn good job. maybe she can fix his mess.

he tries to sit the exact moment someone leans in to touch his face (whatcha gonna do, doc, check if i'm still breathin'?), lips smacked against rough leather. does mercy wear leather gloves? either way, it counts as the most awkward hand kiss he's ever given. not that he does go around and give a ton of them.

passes out while he still tries to figure out who the fuck hovers over his face there.

iii )

reyes isn't in when he moves into his office (unannounced and without knocking, as he usual does — he's pretty sure the man is slowly training him to be his second, anyway, even if it's all but official, so he spends most his day around the other man anyway), and he knows he isn't, because reyes is off to a short mission and left him to deal with smaller business, but someone else is.

his hand freezes on the door. he's not meant on walking in on morrison leaning over the desk, obviously upset. it seems odd. private, almost. it feels like something he is definitely not meant to see. (who's ever meant to see their boss in a position of.. weakness? he's not sure.)

he retreats, silently, and almost makes it before jack speaks up. tells him to stay. reluctantly, he closes the door as he moves back into the room. with years passing, they have been moving in each other's orbit more often — but he's still nowhere in a position equal to the other man. sometimes he wonders if morrison even knows his name. sometimes he wonders if he wants him to know, anyway.

turned out, reports just came in that several agents went mia. knowing the details of the mission, it was safe to assume none of them would return, at least not in one, breathing piece. turned out, it might be because of some misinterpreted data. turned out, jack didn't expect him to come around, and would retreat to gabriel's office instead of his own to have a moment to think without people banging up his door to blame him. jesse doubt anyone would. he's seen the data. they all came to the same conclusions. besides, even if overwatch did the prettier jobs, they all still knew they put their life on the line each day. willingly.

he says none of it. for once, he keeps awfully silent. he knows when words wouldn't do any good. instead, he moves to comfort — something he's done in the past, with various people.

doesn't matter if jack doesn't care about him. he's here, and touch is a soothing thing, a wonderful escape, if only for the moment.

what he feels at it is entirely irrelevant, and nothing anyone will ever ask for.

iv )

he's not been to the funeral. for various reasons.

one is that he's not even been close to swiss when it happened. a poor excuse, but one he can give himself. just as he can give himself a thousand excuses for leaving when he should have stayed. he knew something was up, was wrong. knew things weren't going as they were supposed to. instead of doing something about it — anything at all — he ran.

maybe he could have prevented some of this. maybe he couldn't. one way or another, it feels like his bones belonged beneath the earth, too. feels like he should have been there.

should have. wasn't.

another is that people are looking for him, and this, surely, would have been the first place to look at. despite his yearning for a death that didn't come (a feeling that roots in guilt, and will, ultimately, fade, albeit never entirely), this would be wrong. it'd dirty both their memory. and it'd dirty all the others that actually are there.

he wonders who's left. he wonders if anyone will ask for him. it doesn't matter. all people that did matter are below the ground now.

he comes late. months late, in fact, when he's sure nobody will check for him to come anymore. he visits either of them. spends too much time sitting in front of a stone. the ground is wet and sticks to his clothes, but that hardly registers.

before he leaves, he presses his lips against the stone. saying all the things he never would to the one alive.

cold.

just what did he expect?

v )

it's odd, he thinks.

it's odd being back at gibraltar. it's odd being back at overwatch. it's odd watching someone he mourned years and years ago move above the earth, not under. the movements are different. yet, it's recognizable, burned into his head. he didn't know immediately. but now that the realization is there, he can't fight it away anymore. he wants to punch the man. knock that stupid ass visor right of his face and yell at him. for all those years gone.

he doesn't. he has no right. he never had any. jack morrison is his own man, as is soldier 76. maybe they aren't even the same, aside from the body shared. he doesn't know. he doesn't know if he wants to know. besides, he doesn't need to — because the thing is coming off all on it's own, and if he felt sick before, he feels like dying now.

he does nothing. not because there's a lack of will, but there are too many things that paralyze him altogether. and maybe he's scared that, if he speaks up now, it'll turn out a bad dream. it'd not be the first one. mocking him. guilting him.

he just stands, and stares, and his own body betrays him. trembles. and maybe something more — maybe it started to rain. maybe that's why his face is wet. maybe.

it feels different, and similar, and a whole lot of things he cannot point out when the other man moves towards him. he wants to tell him to fuck off. he wants to tell him to get off him. he doesn't. he can't.

this time, it's jack that comforts him when instead of yelling, he lets his head drop against his shoulder. hides away from the world. hides away from jack's gaze. still, he doesn't shush away from the arm around him, or the kiss on his hair (when did he lose his hat? doesn't matter).

he doesn't know if he could, even if he wanted, so he just presses close, taking for as long as he can take.

#lifereturned #long post #cut for length #oh boy this got a LOT sadder than i intended it to #also uuuh #death tw #suicidal thoughts tw #injury tw #??? i guess????#jack tag tba.#;; SHOOT DARLING. (ask.)

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