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He'd only been in the holding cell for a few hours before the door slammed open.
Gabriel looked up slowly at the sound of metal on concrete, too weary to be startled. He hadn't expected a cheery welcome when he'd turned himself over to the new, clandestine version of Overwatch. He'd been prepared for worse, actually; when he'd shown up at the Gibraltar Watchpoint to an array of suspicious new faces he wouldn't have put it past one of them to put a bullet in his head. But no one moved until Angela and Winston arrived at his request, and he was grudgingly accepted into their custody.
Into Winston's custody, at least. As much as Gabriel disliked the overgrown ape, he trusted the scientist not to do him wrong so long as he cooperated. And if Angela was going to be trying to fix him, running her experiments and her tests, Gabriel absolutely wanted someone else monitoring her.
He wouldn't trust her with his life again. He'd done it once before, and all it had earned him was eight years of constant agony.
He couldn't remember the last time he wasn't in pain.
But when the cell door opened, it wasn't to the sight of Angela or Winston. It wasn't to Reinhardt's disapproving frown or Tracer's teeth-grinding cheerfulness. Instead it was Soldier 76, a vigilante that Gabriel had heard about in passing, and the man had his rifle clenched tightly in his hands.
Gabriel tensed, sitting on a metal bench at the back of the cell. His hands were cuffed behind him, his mask and taloned gauntlets removed. It was more of a show of faith than anything else that he hadn't broken free - he could phase through the cuffs if he wanted, turn his arm into smoke and escape whenever he liked - but he had already resigned himself to docility. He wanted his body fixed. He wanted the pain to stop.
But he wasn't about to take some revenge-driven soldier's bullet in the chest without a fight.
Gabriel stood unhurriedly, deliberately. He tensed his body for the searing chill that came with phasing out, drawing the shadows around him as he prepared to move. He opened his mouth to speak and--
"It is you."
Gabriel stopped. Blinked. The darkness receded from his grasp as 76 took a few sharp, jerky steps forward, the rifle clattering to the floor.
"It's you," 76 repeated, voice shaking. "You...you're alive, you're-- Damn you, you're alive--"
Recognition hit Gabriel hard in the gut. That familiar stance, the age-roughened voice, the white-streaked blond hair...
"Jack," he breathed.
It took the soldier just a few more strides to reach him. Just a few feet in which to yank off his visor, grab Gabriel by the front of his coat, and haul him in for a desperate, searing kiss.
And Gabriel didn't even hesitate before returning it.
"I thought you were dead," Jack whispered against his lips, drawing just far enough away to look Gabriel in the eyes. His own had clearly been damaged at some point, familiar cornflower-colored irises now clouded over with white, but he seemed able to focus well enough. His hands slid up, cupping Gabriel's cheek in his palm, curving around the back of his head. "I thought that... I saw your body, Gabe--"
"Angela brought me back," Gabriel rasped, tilting his head, leaning in for another kiss. He flexed his wrists against the cuffs, wanting nothing more than to return the touch, but he couldn't seem to gather sufficient braincells to concentrate on phasing through them. "I don't know how, but she... Christ, Jack, all this time, all these years--you've been alive this whole time--"
"Alive, maybe," Jack acknowledged, low and weary. "Living...not so much."
Gabriel's heart ached at the exhaustion in his voice: a hopelessness that had no right to fall from Jack Morrison's lips. He finally summoned enough of his wits to focus on his restraints, grimacing through the pain of his arm dissolving into smoke. The cuffs dangled loose from one wrist as he finally, finally reached up, wrapping his arms around Jack and tugging him close.
"I'm so sorry," he rasped, tightening his grip when Jack froze. He was terrified that this was some delusion, that Jack would dissipate in his arms before he could choke out the words he'd spent years wishing he'd said. "I'm sorry about Overwatch, I'm sorry that I hurt you, I'm--fuck, Jack, I'm sorry for everything--"
"Don't," Jack interrupted. Gabriel's breath caught in his throat, but Jack wasn't pulling away. He wasn't angry. "Don't apologize. Not to me. It was my fault too. I should have listened to you, should have paid more attention..."
"Seventy-Six!" a familiar voice shouted. The suddenness of it had Gabriel jerking instinctively, shoving Jack behind him as Angela appeared in the doorway, flushed and breathless. "Seventy-Six, he's under our protection, you can't--"
Angela stopped. Stared.
"Jack?"
"I did tell you to leave them alone," Winston said mildly, appearing behind her. He took the two of them in with a glance: Gabriel's unlocked cuffs and defensive posture, and Jack's red cheeks and slightly guilty expression.
"You knew?" Angela demanded, turning her shocked gaze on the scientist. Winston shrugged.
"Sometimes I forget you humans have such a limited olfactory system. Come on, give them a minute. I don't think that they're going to hurt each other."
Winston took Angela by the elbow and gently pulled the sputtering doctor from the room. Jack huffed a laugh against Gabriel's shoulder; when he looked back, he caught the gentle curve of Jack's mouth, blue eyes soft and amused.
And, there. That was his Jack. After all the years of loss and pain, beneath the scars and the tired lines on his face--it was still Jack. Still the bright ray of sunshine in Gabriel's drab existence.
"She said you came here for help," Jack said, a questioning note in his voice.
Gabriel grimaced. He pulled up one sleeve, baring warm brown skin mottled with sickly gray.
"I want her to fix what she did to me," he replied. Jack inhaled a sharp breath as he let his arm fade into smoke, the blotchy patches dissipating first. "This...it hurts, Jack. More than you can imagine."
As soon as his arm re-solidified, Jack reached out to twine their fingers together.
"We'll make it right," he promised. He said it in that same sincere, steadfast tone that had helped earn him his place as Overwatch's commander, and as the world's bastion of hope. But there was an edge to it, now. There was an underlying current of sharp determination that seemed to imply that he would do whatever it took to back up his words, no matter the cost.
Gabriel lifted his free hand, tracing Jack's temple where the mask had left an imprint in his skin.
"What about you? What happened?"
"Damage from the explosion," Jack explained, and Gabriel had to tamp down on the guilt that surged through him. "I was blind for almost a year afterward. Took a while to get back to the point where I could even make out things close-range. The visor compensates for most of it, now."
Gabriel frowned, stroking his thumb across Jack's cheek.
"You'll let Mercy take a look, now that she knows who you are?"
Jack rolled his eyes, but the curve of his lips was fond.
"Yeah, sure."
"Good."
Gabriel took another few moments to just take in the sight of Jack in front of him, older and worn but alive. It had taken him years to come to terms with what had happened; after the anger and resentment finally faded he'd just been left empty, regret seeping into his bones like slow poison. He'd let himself be blinded by jealousy and it had cost him--everything.
It had cost him Jack.
"Gabo."
Gabriel blinked. Warmth suffused his chest at the old, familiar nickname, always exasperatedly endearing coming from Jack's mouth, the vowels a little flat on his Indiana-raised tongue. But the smile forming on his lips died when he caught sight of the unhappiness in Jack's gaze.
Decades ago, he would have murdered whoever put that look on Jack's face.
Decades ago, he wouldn't have been the one who caused it.
"What's wrong?"
"Are you going to leave?" Jack asked, not meeting his eyes. "After Angela helps you, will you..."
"No," Gabriel interrupted sharply. He tucked a fingertip under Jack's chin, tilting his head up until he met his gaze. "No, Jack. I'm not leaving. I won't lose you again."
He rested their foreheads together, reaching around to curl his fingers in soft blond hair.
"I can't lose you again."
Jack let out a low breath. A smile spread across his face, slow and small and quiet, but it was still that same sunrise Gabriel knew.
"You won't," he said softly.
Gabriel returned the smile, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Jack's lips.
And for the first time in a long, long while, nothing seemed to hurt.