#I made his sleeves loose and exposing his scars. While Nightmare's arms are covered. It's meant to be a detail showing the power imbalance

[megsblackfirewrites]

Two For the Road: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Gabriel stood watching the rain splatter against the window of the church she and Jack were holed up in. It was a comforting sound, one that calmed the emotions curling beneath her flesh. It distracted her from the constant pain that tormented her and helped her to focus on the problems unfurling before her.

Reaper was a wanted mercenary with ties to Talon; La Muerte was a dangerous vigilante working with the equally dangerous Soldier: 76. Gabriel Reyes had a gravestone in Dorado next to her mother that no one tended to except for Jack and her when they went to pay their respects to whatever poor souls were buried in their stead. Jack was getting older and he couldn’t move as well as he used to. He was dying a little more every day and there was nothing she could do about it.

He was getting older and dying and she wasn’t aging a day. She was still forty-eight, would always be forty-eight, while Jack aged. Panic gripped her heart as she stared out the window. Jack was dying. Jack was dying. He was dying and there was nothing she could do to stop it. He would grow old and die and she would be left alone to deal with this horrible state of constant decay and regeneration. He would be gone and the only light in her life would vanish and….

“Gabe?” Jack’s voice broke through the crawling, skittering thoughts.

She snapped her head towards him, blinking rapidly as she swallowed down the gasp that wanted to leave her. He was leaning on the doorframe, his white hair disheveled and looking worse for wear. His torso was covered in fresh scars that had yet to lose their painful red colour. His face was a mess of burned scar tissue and two deep slices ran across most of his face. The once cherub features were gone, replaced with a haggard expression that did not suit him.

“My thoughts didn’t wake you, did they?” Gabriel asked as she turned towards him.

“The cold spot beside me woke me up,” Jack yawned as he walked over to her. “What’s on your mind, mi luna?”

Gabriel smiled. He was trying so much harder to learn Spanish now. His accent was still terrible, made worse by his gravelly voice; she suspected that was the result of smoke inhalation when the Swiss base exploded and caved in on top of them; but the fact that he was trying made her feel better about everything. Hearing him call her pet names in her mother-tongue made her feel much lighter than she was and that maybe, just maybe, they were going to be alright.

“What isn’t on my mind, mi sol?” she sighed as she pillowed her head on his chest.

The height difference had taken some getting used to. It was a strain to remain at seven feet tall and required more souls than she was willing to consume to keep her body from looking like a charred skeleton. She flirted between six foot one; same as Jack’s height; and her original five-foot-six, often sticking with the five-foot-six as it was easier to maintain and let her have better control of what she looked like. Jack liked being able to pull her into his chest, but she knew he missed her doing the same.

“Don’t worry so much about us,” Jack soothed as he kissed her temple. “We��re here and we’re alive. That’s all that we should care about.”

“Aside from getting revenge for our fallen comrades,” she smirked.

“That too,” Jack laughed. “Come back to bed.”

Gabriel smiled and let herself be led back into their make-shift bedroom. The mattress Jack had managed to haul up the stairs was lying on the floor, covered in thin sheets and a moth-eaten duvet that kept the chill off of them. Not that Gabriel really felt the cold anymore, but she certainly appreciated the warmth. Jack’s pulse rifle was lying beside the bed within easy grabbing distance. He could have it cocked and ready to fire in less time than most people were able to blink.

Gabriel crawled into bed beside Jack after he had settled down, her clothing misting away to reveal her mottled flesh and nightmare fuel inducing body. There were too many eyes for even her liking, but there was only so much that she could control of her shape at this point. At least it wasn’t mouths and teeth everywhere; she didn’t think she could live with herself if she heard her voice coming out of her shoulders or hips. She could handle the maws on her palms; they stayed closed when she wanted them to.

Jack wrapped his arms around her, unfazed by the eyes squinting at him from her collarbone. They had given him quite the shock the first time they had tried to cuddle; to be fair, she had screamed the first time she saw them too; but he had simply leaned in close and kissed each one with affectionate reverence.

“You’re the best, Jack,” she murmured softly. “Don’t know too many men that would have stayed with me.” “We might never have taken vows before a priest,” Jack murmured as he gently lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm to silence the gnashing mouth, “but I swore that I would love you forever and I intend to keep that vow.”

“You’re such a sap,” she teased.

“Would you have me any other way?” Jack asked with a soft smile.

“No,” she shook her head. “I wouldn’t. You rest, Jack.”

He tucked his head into her shoulder and let out a soft sigh. She wrapped her arms around his torso, keeping her grip loose in case he needed to reach for his gun. She felt him slowly fall back asleep and the rain outside kept falling, soothing her into a state of rest that wasn’t quite sleeping but just as peaceful.

Jesse rubbed at his jaw as he watched Hanzo set up the last target. Hodor was standing quietly beside her, head lowered as the slanting sunlight beat off of him. Sampson flicked his ears forward curiously, but Jesse kept a firm hold of his reins to keep him from going to investigate. They had left white Champion behind in the paddock; apparently he was useless for what Hanzo wanted to do.

She sprang back into the saddle and trotted Hodor over to him, pulling her bow out of the case at her knee. “You ready?” she smirked as she pulled up beside him.

“Ready to school you,” he grinned. “Six shots, six targets; this is my playground, darlin’.”

“No showboating this round,” she smirked. “Just shoot the targets and get a feel for the arena. The more deadly the wound, the better your score.”

“What’s the prize?” he asked as he patted Peacekeeper.

Hanzo’s grin turned devious as she flicked the long strand of hair she had hanging down the right side of her face behind her ear. “I’m sure the winner can think of something,” she teased.

“Sounds good to me,” he cackled as he nudged Sampson forward. “Prepare to lose, darlin’!”

He kicked Sampson into a canter, leaning forward in the saddle as they approached the first target. He drew Peacekeeper in one smooth motion and started firing as they raced past. It felt good to do something this simple with Hanzo; training had always been about staying alive and not getting killed on a mission. Now, this little challenge was for fun, a chance to show off for the dangerous assassin and show what he could do after four years of bounty hunting. He shot the last target in the shoulder and turned Sampson back towards Hanzo and Hodor.

“How was that, darlin’?” he laughed as he approached. “Think you can do better?”

“Oh, definitely,” Hanzo mused as she patted Hodor’s neck. “Watch and learn, cowboy.”

The way she purred that final word had his heart dancing in his chest. He watched Hodor trot past, his ears perked backwards as Hanzo murmured to him. She had Storm Bow in her left hand, her shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows so that Minami’s head was fully exposed. She gave Hodor a firm kick and he broke into a full gallop.

He blinked and almost missed her pulling three arrows from her quiver. She twisted in the saddle, firing over Hodor’s rump at each target. She hit every one of them in the head as they sped by, not even bothering to steer Hodor. Jesse’s mouth fell open as Hodor slowed down to a trot, his sides heaving as Hanzo looked over the damage she had done.

“I do believe round one goes to me,” she teased.

Jesse squinted at her. “You part Hun?” he asked as he pointed at the targets. “Because that’s just plain scary.”

“I was raised from birth to be an efficient killer,” Hanzo smirked. “Shooting from horseback might be an old and dead art, but it never hurts to be prepared.”

“So you won,” he pouted.

“No round two?” she asked sweetly.

“I won’t be able to top that no matter what I do,” he pouted further, sticking his lip out as far as it would go.

“Hmm, sore loser,” she teased before she reached up and stole his hat off of his head. “So I get this for the next week or so.”

“That’s what you wanted as your prize?” Jesse laughed. “Darlin’, you could have just asked!”

“Not as satisfying,” she grinned as she set the hat on her head and fluttered her eyelashes. “So much better to win something like this than to just ask.”

He watched her turn Hodor around to collect her arrows and whistled. Damn, if she didn’t look good in his hat. She shot him a wink over her shoulder and his belly tied itself into knots. He let out a long sigh before he slumped across Sampson’s shoulders and patted his neck.

“That woman, my boy,” he sighed. “That woman should be the death of me, but I’ve never felt more alive.” Sampson snorted and bent down to crop at the shrubby grass around his hooves. Jesse straightened in the saddle, watching Hanzo put the arrows back in her quiver and dismount to start dismantling the targets. He urged Sampson forward, shaking his head in amusement as he went to go help.